This Fræði of Mine
by Ferro Maris
Summary: Hiccup is Chief, and the Dragons are gone, yet life must continue on as the memories of better times be committed to legend and stories for the children of Berk and their children after them to know and praise. A recollection of the HTTYD Trilogy and it's finer moments permanently etched into the Fræði Hjǫrr and told by Hiccup himself. [Post-HTTYD:THW]


This Fræði of Mine - Sá Fræði Hjǫrr

* * *

Imagination was a powerful drug. It intoxicated and filled the minds of even the most steadfast warriors. The imagination that a long-lost battlebrother, brother in the shield wall, would finally return however, was even more-so exhilarating.

Hiccup stood on the edge of the tall grass that hugged and clung for life atop the natural cliffside surrounding the outer portions of New Berk on Big Black Isle. The top of the grass seemingly stretching in the early morning frost to reach out towards the last rays of summer sun. It's warmth was a strange and yet, comforting feeling as it glowed upon his face while small whistles of wind played with his hair like a child.

Standing tall, his hands cupped together on the topside of the hilt of his downward facing sword, the tip of the blade lightly digging into the rich, fresh soil surrounding his feet-or rather, _foot._ Etched into the shining metal blade of the sword were the fables of his journeys and his battles, permanently captured in a series of greatly detailed pictures. He knew the sword well, for it was his life after all. Beginning with the blade tip and working upward began the battle with the great jötunn known by his Berkian brethren as "The Red Death". A battle which had given Hiccup the exposure and power to change his stubborn, hard headed community of "kill dragon first- talk about killing dragon later" to one of dragon-riders and rescuers, who would put themselves in harm's way before their dragon friends, a testament to one species' loyalty to another.

The jötunn's features were well sketched and placed lightly upon the metal, it's ferocity and anger captured and embedded perfectly. The rune a constant reminder of Hiccup's debt to Fishlegs for accurately documenting and transcribing the species more finer details even during the heat of battle, and then remembering to enter these details into the fabled "Book of Dragons," upon their return.

Continuing up the shining sword from the foible to the midblade, connected by intricate designs of runes and Norse symbols, stood a crude but obviously demeaning figure of Drago, void his facial features and any otherwise too-obvious details of Drogo, _of course_. The sketched outline of his Alpha, standing behind him with questioning intent while Drogo's figure waived his staff in an attempt to control a creature of gentle yet great and powerful magnitude. Perhaps it's most defining detail however, was the Odin-like overwatch portrait of his father, Stoick the Vast, his axe grasped in hand very much like the position Hiccup now stood in. A small frown forming upon Hiccup's now hairy face and chin, memories of his late father flooding open like the gates to a city of thought.

Finally atop the blade at the forte section most nearest to the hilt was the etched design of two night furies. Similar in design, yet with small and subtle changes between them, it was easily recognizable as his battle brother Toothless and Toothless' mate, the unnamed Light-Fury. The design had their bodies snaked together from the tail up, their wings outstretched while they looked to be staring into the soul of one another. Surrounding their bodies were the small but ever-unmissable sketches of various dragon species, hundreds of them had been carefully and thoughtfully placed on the limited surrounding space around the entwined Night Furies.

The sun had caught the blade edge from an angle, the glint from the shiny metal shown bright and true, _and straight into Hiccup's downward facing eyes._ Squinting his eyes before looking away and finally outward from the cliffside he brooded upon toward the mighty and vast sea that lay before him. The white caps of breaking waves, mixing in with the great deep blue swells of the ocean, growing smaller and smaller as they extended far beyond the detailed sight of any man before disappearing off the edge of the world and past the horizon of a rising sun.

The memories were all there, in mind, sword, and the heart of a chief. Their tales a reminder and constant history lesson of the friendship between two species, and how that single friendship, changed a world forever.

* * *

Lúka - Fini

* * *

_Thank you for reading!_

_I know it's short and sweet, but the idea of a rune sword, which documented the history of Hiccup and the HTTYD trilogy popped into my head today and I just couldn't let it go!_

_~Maris_


End file.
